


Creative Thinking

by quodpersortem



Category: Teen Wolf (TV) RPF
Genre: Fantasizing, Getting off, I would like to point out that this is probably canon, Implied Slash, Masturbation, Other, PWP, Plot What Plot, Porn Without Plot, Solo, jerking off, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 23:33:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quodpersortem/pseuds/quodpersortem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Friendly reminder that all of these hot guys we love to read about actually do get themselves off, probably on a regular base. Masturbation is canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Creative Thinking

**Author's Note:**

> For [youneedmetosurvive](http://youneedmetosurvive.tumblr.com/). Written because of many reasons and they are all parts of Tyler Hoechlin's body.

When Tyler gets to his trailer after a day of filming, he first takes a quick shower. Then he settles down on his bed and turns on the radio. It's rare that he isn't tired enough to fall asleep immediately, and he’s in the mood—he has been for a while now. 

He didn't bother to get dressed, only his towel is draped around his hips. The pillow under his head feels a little damp when he turns his head to the side because his hair is still a little wet. The sheets are soft under his bare back and legs. He sighs as he shifts a little, enjoying the feel of the cotton a little longer before he puts a hand to his leg.

Tyler starts slowly—he trails a finger from his knee to under the towel, about midway up his thigh. A faint buzz of arousal is starting to spread through his veins as he focuses on the feeling. He shivers.

In general, when he wants to gets off fast, he thinks of fucking someone, or if he wants it done really quick, he puts on some pornography. Now however—now it's just him and his body, with no one allowed on his mind.

He puts both of his hands to his chest and strokes them down, with enough pressure to ripple his skin. He's already growing hard, pleasure stirring in his lower stomach, but for now he avoids his cock. He does take off the towel however, gasping a little at the sudden rush of surprisingly cool air against his heating skin.

Tyler spends some more time tracing light patterns down his limbs with one or two fingers, and by the time he opens his eyes again his nipples are hard so he touches those too. A shudder runs through his body when he pinches one of them. Then he pulls up his knees and spreads his legs, his feet flat on the bed.

For a moment, he just lays there with his eyes closed while he palms the inside of his thighs, and he can feel the hair dusted across smooth skin and hard muscle. 

Then he wraps two fingers around the base of his cock and starts to move so slowly there’s not even a set rhythm to it, just a light stroke every couple of minutes. His hand is still dry and he stops below the head of his cock, squeezing each time he gets there. Each time he strokes up- or down, a wave of pleasure draws through his body, starting at his center and moving out to his extremities and his head, buzzing him. 

A drop of precome beads on the head of his cock and he rubs at it with a finger, spreading the moisture around, before he reaches over for the lube under his bed. He keeps it in a shoebox along with a few discreet other toys, and he has to feel around for a second before he’s found the tube. 

He pours some of it directly onto the head of his cock, gasping at the chill when the gel hits his skin. For a second he thinks it’s too cold but almost immediately after the temperature difference sends another bout of arousal down his spine. He puts his hands around his cock again and starts to stroke, spreading the lube, while he cups his balls with his free hand, one finger pressing at the sensitive skin behind while he rolls them gently in his hand.

Tyler keeps quiet as he can, of course he does—the trailer’s walls are paper thin and most certainly not sound proof (as he and Dylan once found out the hard way, one night off when they’d walked past Crystal’s trailer). He moans now though, involuntarily and only once, before biting on his lower lip because he _really_ doesn’t want anyone to know what’s going on in here.

He starts to move his hand faster then, while he uses his free hand to move up and down his body to touch sensitive spots— _neck, sternum, crook of his thigh, inside of his knee_ \--before he settles on his balls again. He scoops up some of the excess lube that has matted down the pubes at the base of his cock and then he reaches further behind. Then his finger is pressing against his hole and he’s gasping again. 

A heavy feeling is already starting to pool in his lower stomach, pleasure exploding from every down stroke, firm and fast, and he rubs at the sensitive skin further behind. Precome is slicking the way even further and he has to stop moving once because he’s so close, and he really doesn’t want to end it yet.

While he is panting, trying to gain some self-control back, he looks down at his body. His chest is flushed and he’s sweating, a light sheen covering his entire body. He’s feeling warm and flustered, his body has gone tight with tension. His dick is red and shining with lube and a dribble of precome makes its way down to his pubes, and his thighs are blotted with red marks because he’s so warm.

He starts again by rubbing a finger against his hole, pushing in a little. He lifts his hips to gain more access and pushes in beyond the tight rim of muscles, gasping while he wiggles around a little. For a moment, he debates whether to reach for the shoebox again, but he’s too far gone for that. Now, it’s a matter of minutes. Doing that would make it a matter of seconds.

He lowers his lips and withdraws his finger when he starts to move his hand on his cock again. Tyler can feel it twitch right after he touches it. His strokes are firm now, certain, but still he slows down every time he gets near to coming.

The warmth is spreading through his chest and he doesn’t hear what’s on the radio anymore. Little groans are escaping from his throat and there is nothing he can do to stop them. His hips are moving on their own accord, little pushes that drive him up into his hand. His free hand is sometimes rubbing at his entrance, but it’s hard to reach in this position so eventually he just settles for pulling lightly at his balls in the hope to draw it out a little longer.

There’s a slick sound coming from his hand moving on his cock and he loves it, in the obscene way that he also loves the sound of pushing in and out of someone’s body. His cock is pretty much oozing precome, the redness of the head emphasized by the clear drops rolling from the slit, and he takes a moment to trail his finger through it again, shuddering at the sensation.

When he starts to jerk off again, he does nothing to keep going any longer—he knows it’s no use, that he’ll come even if he takes his hands away right now. So Tyler closes his eyes while he throws back his head, arching his back. Maybe he moans, but he isn’t sure. His hips start to buck up uncontrollably. His jaw goes slack and images flash through his mind, of full lips and large eyes, of slender waists and long fingers that aren’t his own wrapped around his length or prodding against his hole.

He comes with a choked-off “Fu-uh- _uck_ ”, quickly stroking himself throughout his orgasm, shooting his load almost all the way up to his nipples, before he sags back down onto the bed.

For a moment, he just stares at his wet hand, and then he licks at it. The taste is familiar, from all the times he’s done this before. Then he gets out the tissues and wipes himself clean—first his stomach to keep everything from running off onto the bed, then his hands and eventually his cock.

Tyler gets up to go to take a piss after that, and when he gets back, he sprays around some air freshener to drive away most of the sex-and-semen-stench that hangs in the air. Then, still blessed out from his orgasm and pliant and warm, he crawls under the sheets and shuts down the lights.

He falls asleep almost immediately after that.


End file.
